


ultimately

by titowrites



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Hopeful Ending, M/M, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, just a tiny tiny bit of:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 03:02:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20369608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titowrites/pseuds/titowrites
Summary: “and ultimately i believe we’ll be okay.”or how jae and wonpil hold on, break apart, and hopefully find their way back.





	ultimately

**Author's Note:**

> heavily inspired by the song ultimately by khai dreams (i highly recommend taking a listen before or while you read this for the full effect!!)

despite it all, jae and wonpil were always gentle towards each other. 

  
  
  


when they fight and hurt it’s always in the quietness of their empty bedroom when no one’s home, biting words hushed in low tones. 

when they cry their tears are warm, so when one would lift trembling fingers to wipe them away the frost lingering on their skin stung just a little. 

  
  
  
  


jae let’s his anger fill his body, the weight of his feelings numbing his toes and making him dizzy until he’s running on a treadmill until he collapses. never returning to wonpil until his energy is wasted and all he can do is choke out his emotions when they get stuck in his throat. 

  
  


wonpil avoids him, rushing to and from (everywhere). pushing cushions between them when they’re forced together, turning his back when they stand beside each other. he laughs louder and makes his word stretch out longer, anything to fill in the time he’s spent away from jae. he finally comes back to him when the air is still and he doesn’t remember how to breathe without jae holding his hand. 

  
  
  
  


they say it’s for the sake of the band, the ways they cope with their problems, never wanting to drag anyone else down into the pit they create around themselves. they don’t know or choose to ignore the way sungjin drags jae to the gym when he sees him shaking on his bed, or how dowoon pokes at younghyun’s back when wonpil’s trying too hard to get his attention. they ignore that there’s always an empty space for them when they meet in the middle, how the dorm is never as quiet as it is when the floods of feelings overflow and they’re spilling blood and tears on the floor until they’re drowning in it. 

  
  
  
  


the truth is, they’re scared. scared that if they find each other when the heat is burning and their emotions are bubbling over that they’ll say things they both mean (they don’t, not really) and scar each other too deep to come back from. despite it all, they still want to come back to each other. 

even when jae is sprinting with sweat soaking his back and sungjin’s worried eyes are the only source of comfort he can feel for miles but they make him ache with shame. even when he can’t tell if that’s water slipping passed his lips or if it’s the tears that won’t stop falling. even when the very thought of the younger makes his hands shake, there’s still a part of him that wonders if he’d go to him that they’d stop and he’d know what it feels like not to hurt all over. 

wonpil, despite never uttering a word about jae when he’s hiding in the practice room as dowoon makes too much noise behind his drum kit, misses him. even when his laughter sounds like sobs and his eyes beg for the other boy in the room to continue drumming when his words stop making sense and he’s out of small talk to make. even when the world spins because there’s too much to say and not enough time to say it, feeling the room shrink into itself even though dowoon hasn’t moved from his seat on the other side of the room. even when he bites hard enough to make his lips bleed and he’s thinking about who’s spot on the van he’ll steal so he won’t sit in the back seat (their seats, always), he thinks about the abandoned hoodie on one of the stools that’s too big to anyone’s but jae’s. he thinks if he slips it over his head he’ll smell the very scent he wants nothing to do with but at least he’d breathe deeply for the first time in what feels like forever. 

  
  
  
  


despite it all, they love each other. 

they make it up to each other when it’s settled, when the world ends and they’ve stitched themselves back together and pass out from exhaustion on the same mattress that tore them apart. 

they touch, when they’re okay. they hold hands and let fingers slip under their shirts, even when the closeness feels suffocating in the heat and when their hands feel like ice in the cold. 

jae holds wonpil from behind when rehearsal drags, the older hiding his yawns in the others hair and not minding when his hands are tugged forward and intertwined. he throws his arm over the other’s shoulders so he can lean down to whisper in his ear, side comments about the setlist or requests for dinner. he’ll pull him closer when wonpil stands in front of him, manhandling him until he sits perched on his lap, the excuse of being in his way not believed by no one when he rests a chin on his shoulder. 

he plays more too, poking at wonpil’s exposed skin when his shirt rises up. flicking an ear when they’re all too tired to listen to wonpil’s never ending rambling. jae’s smacks to his caps become a common sound followed by the younger’s giggles when the five of them share a meal together. 

  
  
  
  


they don’t stop, once they start. but the others know the alternative is jae keeping his hands to himself, not touching anyone while wonpil tries his best not to look lost in his seat away from the oldest. jae will always be one step behind the others, not allowing even a brush of the shoulder when he feels he isn’t allowed to rush over and hold wonpil’s hand. yeah, the others don’t mind it one bit. 

  
  
  
  


wonpil is harder to notice, always willing to touch and hold onto anyone who allows it. he expresses his love specifically for the oldest by telling him he’s his favorite, which they all can see. jae is always his first choice, grabbing at his sleeves first, biting at his fingers first, kissing his cheeks first. wonpil isn’t ashamed to grab at jae’s unwilling (he’s _always_ willing) arms and force them to completely envelope him until he’s nothing but an oversized jacket and a peak of hair coming from the front of jae’s torso. if jae is there, wonpil wants nothing more than to be near him. 

except when he doesn’t. 

he usually goes to dowoon, the younger barely noticing the head on his arm, hand immediately reaching up to pet at his older’s hair. younghyun is always ready to spar with wonpil, exchanging jokes and coos and tickles, their laughs loud and filling the room. wonpil finds sungjin at night, when they both can’t sleep and wonpil forces his way into the elder’s bed, stealing the spot closer to the wall and his pillow. they aren’t ever his first choice, but wonpil makes them believe it anyway. they believe it when jae stays away, doesn’t bat his eyes when wonpil skips passed him over to any of them. doesn’t flinch when younghyun’s laughing too loud and falls into wonpil’s side. barely notices when he knocks sungjin and wonpil awake when they stay in a little too long passed their alarm. 

they don’t really think they’re first choice, but when wonpil ignores the flat look in jae’s eyes, they start to believe it.

  
  
  
  


it comes to an end at a beginning. 

there’s too many days to count, too many hours to fill. too many minutes to fall out of everything they are. they don’t risk it. 

jae feels whole when wonpil is near, he also feels whole when he’s gone. he feels whole because he doesn’t think half a man could feel as much fear as he does when wonpil leaves his side. 

wonpil feels too much when jae kisses him. he feels empowered and warm. it also feels warm when jae refuses to get too close, and he doesn’t know how he keeps falling, both in love and into nothing when he’s gone. 

they know they’re young, young in love and in life. they end it before a beginning, a beginning of travel and the best years of their life. they’ll be together even though they aren’t together. 

  
  
  
  


they stay together that last night, the dorm unusually quiet, only now just noticing. 

  
  
  
  


they both take the others out, unknowingly. both a _thank you_ and an _i’m sorry._

  
  
  
  


sometimes jae pretends they’re just in the middle of an argument, except when wonpil hugs him after a show and his arms are like cold water waking him from a dream. 

sometimes wonpil pretends jae just needs space. only jae will collapse next to him on the sofa with a laugh as he forces wonpil to watch something on his phone and wonpil has to act like he isn’t breaking. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


they get passed it. and each other. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


they’re able to be together without feeling like something is missing. they’re able to be friends without the pain of their love tearing at their skin. they cry together, not from fear but from relief, relief over the band doing well, over their friendship making it, over each other. they aren’t sad tears. 

  
  
  
  


when they get home, they stay friends. 

  
  
  
  


sometimes jae watches the river from the bridge, watching the leaves from the trees falling and littering the water. poetically, he thinks it should look prettier than it does. 

  
  
  
  


sometimes wonpil grows flowers, plants them in his mother’s tiny pots when he goes home and returns later to find them in full bloom. he didn’t water them, didn’t tend to the weeds, so he doesn’t feel a thing until the first petal falls into the soil. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


jae tells him one day he misses him. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“i’m here.”

  
  
  


“that’s not what I mean.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“i miss you, too.” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> this has been finished in my drafts for a almost a year and i finally thought it deserved to just be sent out into the world!! while it’s not my best i sort of love it.
> 
> thank you for reading!! comments are always welcome!! :)


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